


Okay, but first, kiss me

by SubjectB2



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, High School, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Mike Wheeler Friendship, Underage Drinking, this is platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubjectB2/pseuds/SubjectB2
Summary: "We never speak of this again, okay?"Prompt: Okay, but first, kiss me - max & mike
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Mike Wheeler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Okay, but first, kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> TW - underaged drinking

Claire Laurence's parties were notorious amongst the residences of Hawkins High, and that wasn't for no good reason. Her parents were almost always out of town, though that hardly seemed to matter. They were the main alcohol suppliers, which Claire's house had plenty of, and never tried to stop her if they came home early. Of course, the events weren't as legendary as Steve's- despite the town's brief fascination with Billy Hargrove, Steve was still something of myths. 

So, second only to Steve Harrington, Claire's parties were something many students wished to obtain invites to, whether by status, by way of a friend, or from Claire herself. It was uncommon for anyone deemed too far below her in the Hawkins hierarchy to attend, or even people in the grade below.

Yet it was no surprise that Max Mayfield found herself in the middle of one that Saturday night.

From the very first day of her freshman year, the seniors had always liked her. At fourteen, she remained one of the few in her grade to attend a senior party, and that stuck until her junior year. Back then, he hadn't been so healthy, using alcohol and parties as a way to forget what was going on at home, or the traumatic events she'd witnessed in the mere year she'd been there. That, well, still stood to date- Max had never been one to develop many healthy coping mechanisms.

The only one who ever followed her was Mike Wheeler, something of a surprise to most people. The two had got off to a rocky start, fighting for the sake of fighting, loyal, yet extremely stubborn personalities clashing catastrophically. Now, they weren't so bad. Sure, they fought every other hour, had petty arguments over things as trivial as the last cookie or what to do after school, but they had each other's backs. Max hated his guts, and vice versa, but they'd go down swinging for each other if need be.

For a few months, Dustin and Lucas had tagged along to the parties too, but they never quite enjoyed the experience like Max did. Dustin was too nervous to drink, and Lucas had designated himself group mother by default, far too concerned about making sure Mike didn't pass out by the side of the road to occupy himself with alcohol. So, eventually, their group of four dwindled down to two.

Max didn't care, anyway. She didn't need a babysitter.

That was where they found themselves today, Claire's house, music blaring, no doubt echoing all the way down the street to tired, yet familiar neighbours. Mike leant against the wall, watching from the sidelines. Max had disappeared to God knows where, likely to dance or find some alcohol, though he really had no idea. He could barely ever keep up with the girl.

Speaking of keeping up, he sipped his drink gingerly, grimacing as he did so. After years of practise, he still wasn't used to the taste, the burning sensation down his throat, no matter how much cola he mixed into it. Really, he was mostly drinking it so that Max didn't win. They always had this unspoken bet since the very first time they'd done this, Max calling him a pussy for being behind, Mike taking shots until he no longer pulled a face. He was too stubborn to lose.

They both were.

Tonight, however, they were taking it slow. They'd only just got there, Max wasn't even tipsy yet, and this was Mike's first drink. Hell, he could still drive at this point- they both could.

Which was why he was a little surprised to see her walking over to him already, no cup in hand.

"Have you had anything to drink yet?" He yelled over the music, straightening up. He towered over her, always had, but now stood around 5'11, compared to her measly 5'3. She hadn't grown since they first met.

Max shook her head. "No, but-"

He cut her off almost immediately, naturally interruptive. Pulling a face, he pushed the drink towards her. "Good. This is disgusting,  _please_ take it from me."

"Okay, but first, kiss me." 

There was a sense of certainty and urgency in her voice that threw Mike completely off guard. Up until that point, he had been certain that Max liked girls- come on, the Wonder Woman obsession? The way she looked at El, and her on and off nature with Lucas that ended shortly before high school? To Mike, it had been very obvious.

"Woah, wh- what?" He spluttered, still not recovered from the initial shock. "Are you sure you've not had anything to drink? Because-"

"No!" She cut him off this time, sounding far more frustrated, annoyed at something he just wasn't getting. She lowered her voice, hissing the next part so quietly that Mike had to strain to hear. "You know Ben? From English? He keeps flirting with me and I don't want to-  _mmhf_ !"

Mike didn't hesitate beyond that explanation, leaning down to press his lips to hers. They'd been friends long enough that it wasn't really awkward, despite the small crush he may or may not have had on her a couple years prior. It wasn't something he'd ever admit, but he couldn't deny that she was pretty either.

She pulled away, turning around so quickly that her hair whipped Mike in the face. Sure enough, there was Ben, slinking back into the rest of the very drunk crowd. She nodded slowly, waiting to make sure that he was gone, before turning back to Mike.

This time, she fixed him with a glare that would turn most people to stone, were it not for the fact that he was very used to it. Being on the end of such hatred and threat from the smaller redhead was a daily, if not hourly, occurrence.

"We never speak of this again, okay?" 

Despite growing accustomed to the look, Mike readily agreed. 


End file.
